


To Russia, with love, Aziraphale

by Xidaer



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Canes, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot, Sensation Play, Switching, bottom!Crowley - Freeform, top!aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 05:58:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19435324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xidaer/pseuds/Xidaer
Summary: In which Aziraphale attempts to top Crowley, giving him a stern beating and then comforting him with a good shag.





	To Russia, with love, Aziraphale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [8LunaFortuna8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/8LunaFortuna8/gifts).



Previously it had always been Aziraphale on the receiving end. His hedonist tendencies, loving food, loving fashion; it really was quite a small leap to loving sensation play. The celestial pair were in what would become Russia when Crowley gave Aziraphale a white mink muff to warm his hands. It was an unnecessary gesture that made Aziraphale blush despite himself. “Oh it’s lovely, Crowley, and beyond decadent,” the angel gushed as he settled his hands inside the fluffy cylinder. “Thank you!”

Crowley stepped in and laid his hands on top of the muff, tangling his long fingers in the dense, soft fur. The angel’s body shivered as the mink was pushed along his sensitive inner wrists. “It is rather, isn’t it?” Crowley said.

“Is what?” Aziraphale muttered softly, lost for a moment in the physicality of the gift.

“Decadent. Clever humans and all that. In fact,” Crowley continued, stepping close enough to ghost the words over the blushing angel’s cheek, “I happen to have a matching coat back at my flat...”

“Oh, you tempt me, Crowley,” Aziraphale said as he relaxed into their flirtation.

“That’s my job, angel,” Crowley said with a rakish grin.

Very soon, soft furs swept across slowly revealed skin and silks unfurled to travel the same paths. Crowley preferred the silk as he could feel the heat from Aziraphale’s skin through the thin fabric. His fondness for the smooth cloth, of course, had  _ nothing _ to do with their first kiss being through silk- the expensive length of it soon left piled on the floor in lieu of lips to lips; their respective scheduled temptations and blessings for the evening forgotten in light of new discoveries.

Over the years, they’d played with various furs, fabrics, touches, and even blindfolds and bondage. It took Crowley over a century to ask for rougher play. “You like it when I bite your lower lip, yes?” He asked.

The angel blushed, his eyes darting around the restaurant. “Yes…,” he said with trepidation.

Biting was where they learned Aziraphale was like a lightning rod for a touch of pain. The first time Crowley truly bit him with any force, Aziraphale let out the loudest moan and came without being touched. While the angel had learned to hold out for longer, there was rarely a time that he wasn’t covered in hickeys under his well-tailored suits. Crowley was careful though to never leave them where other angels might spy the marks despite knowing that the spot right above Aziraphale’s pulse point made his angel melt.

It had been Crowley’s suggestion, switching roles.

“I shall have to be harsh with you,” Aziraphale said gripping the black acrylic cane tightly with both hands, trying to project as much confidence as Crowley always seemed to have. The pair were in Crowley’s London flat, in his well-appointed sex dungeon. A dark wooden St. Andrew’s cross graced the wall where Aziraphale had been tied so many times before for gorgeous floggings. The tall side table, usually by the cross with a variety of implements and necessities like water and lubricant, now stood by the angel with only the latter two. Other toys would have to wait for further negotiations. Tonight was about the spanking bench in the center of the room and the being kneeling as if on a church pew, draping himself over the rich black leather. 

The angel walked around the sides of the bench where Crowley was stretched out completely naked, even his golden eyes exposed without his ever-present sunglasses. The bench was now miraculously the perfect height to present the demon’s ass for a beating. Bare skin rose in gooseflesh as Aziraphale began tracing a path with the tip of the cane; thigh to ass, along Crowley’s ribs, up over his shoulder blades and back down the other side as the angel made a circuit of his lover.

Aziraphale laid the cane across Crowley’s buttocks as if planning his first strike but paused, taking a deep shuddering breath. Placing a hand on Crowley’s back between where his black wings would be, Aziraphale brokenly confessed, “Oh dear, Crowley, I’m not sure I can do this-”

“You’re doing great, angel,” Crowley encouraged softly, looking back to catch Aziraphale’s eyes, “hit me. I promise I won’t change my mind.” 

Pressing his lips together in a firm line, Aziraphale squared his shoulders and gave a nod. He started tapping the cane against Crowley’s ass cheeks; left, right, then left again, getting a feel for the flexible implement.

“Are you hitting me? I can’t tell,” Crowley said, being a brat.

“Why you, you absolute cad!” Whack! Aziraphale cracked the cane across both cheeks raising a bright pink line.

Crowley let out a gasp, rocking forward as if to get out of range then back asking for more, “Yes angel, that’s more like it!”

Aziraphale blushed at Crowley’s shameless cry, but it was like a dam was broken. Proof that Crowley wouldn’t break, that he wanted this beating as much as when Aziraphale wanted his own. “Like that do you? You bad, bad demon,” he said. Dirty talk had always been Crowley’s specialty.

Tap, tap, tap, wallop! Aziraphale worked up a rhythm, spreading the blows evenly from ass to halfway down Crowley’s thighs. Steadying him with a gentle hand, Aziraphale could feel the heat rising from his lover’s abused backside. Crowley for his part was reveling in the sensation, moaning with wanton abandon with each stinging strike. He knew this would not be just a one off.

Breathing heavily, their arousal was clearly evident. Crowley’s sweat and his angel’s welcome beating made it hard to stay still on the leather spanking bench. His cock was leaking, precum dripping to the floor. The demon’s ardor was matched by Aziraphale’s tented trousers. Strikes came faster, harder, a ladder of deep red stripes developing. As the impacts reached a fever pitch, Aziraphale suddenly paused, panting, and ran his free palm over the hot cherry welts.

He placed the cane on the side table and moved to stand between Crowley’s spread legs. Well-trimmed fingernails scratched up the demon’s thighs, over his ass and back down again. Crowley hissed in pain as his welts were caught up in the angel’s ministrations, but he found himself rocking back into the sensation, nonetheless. Aziraphale leaned over his love, heedless of the sweat that would soil his ivory suit, to kiss his way down the demon’s back.

“You should fuck me,” Crowley said with a breathy satisfied sigh.

“Should I now?” Aziraphale said, grinding his clothed cock against the crack of Crowley’s ass. “I suppose you’re trying to tempt me to it?”

“For heav- For fuck’s sake, please Aziraphale,” Crowley begged.

They’d discussed this, him topping the demon. There was lubricant on the side table for just that purpose, but Aziraphale had never taken the plunge, so to speak. He wasn’t at a loss though, as he knew how to mirror what he liked.

He poured some of the lube into his palm, warming it, before gently beginning to stretch Crowley out with his fingers. “More, Aziraphale, please-” the demon began, breaking into a moan as his angel rotated inside him, shallowly at first then deeper. Crooking to reach that miraculous little nub inside, Aziraphale felt drunk on the gasps and whimpers his lover was producing. There was something decadent, almost sinful, about Crowley spread out before him naked while he was still fully dressed. He had the urge to bite, to mark Crowley further as he plundered him, but they hadn’t negotiated that.

Crowley was trembling, a litany of “please, please, please” falling from his lips. The rasp of Aziraphale’s zipper was almost too quiet to be heard over it.

The angel gave a gasp of his own as he freed his cock from its confines, slick hand curling around his shaft. “Are you sure, my love?”

Turning towards Aziraphale, Crowley’s face was flushed, the slits of his snake eyes blown wide. “Please, angel, I’m ready”

Aziraphale took a shuddering breath, letting it out in a rush as he lined up his cock with Crowley’s slick entrance. Aziraphale’s hand on Crowley’s hip tightened as he pushed into the tight, wet heat. The demon keened, a high whining whimper, getting used to the slow intrusion. The angel was barely an inch in now, just the tip, but paused for Crowley to relax. They breathed in tandem, hearts racing, relaxing but no less enthralled. Aziraphale rocked forward a little deeper with each thrust until the cloth and open zipper of his trousers were dragging along Crowley’s still sensitive welts.

“You’re amazing, marvelous, oh goodness, the heat Crowley, oh Crowley my dear sweet love.” He was babbling, endearments falling from his lips like a fountain, running his hands all over Crowley’s hips, his back, anywhere he could reach. They eventually settled again on his hips, using the leverage to thrust deeper making them both pant and moan. Neither would last long at this pace.

Crowley arched back, still kneeling on the bench, now flush with Aziraphale’s chest. The buttons of the waistcoat bit into his spine, but he didn’t care. He reached back and pulled forward Aziraphale’s face to capture his angel’s lips. “I love you,” he panted as the kiss broke.

Aziraphale groaned, fighting not to come from that alone, “Oh Crowley, dear heart, I love you, too.” With that he wrapped his arms around Crowley’s waist and chest- one hand wrapping around his lover’s cock and the other playing with his nipple. Overwhelmed, Crowley fell apart in Aziraphale’s arms, all muscles going taut as he came. A deep, satisfied groan echoed through the room as his angel followed his bliss soon after.

It took ages for them to come down from the heights of their pleasure, panting from exertion and utterly relaxed. With a snap of his fingers, Aziraphale whisked away their mess then helped Crowley stand on unsteady legs.

“Do you want me nude or clothed, darling?” Aziraphale asked softly.

“Naked, please,” Crowley said, needing skin to skin. Snapping again, Aziraphale sent away his clothing and gathered his demon up into his arms. Crowley wrapped around Aziraphale’s shoulders and waist, pressing them chest to chest as he was carried to the bedroom. He nuzzled into Aziraphale’s neck and murmured, “Love you, Angel.”

“And I, you.” Aziraphale said, laying them both in bed and drawing up the blanket. Sated and in love, they curled around each other and slept.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fan fiction in ages, but then Good Omens came along and I was INSPIRED! :D I love our ineffable husbands so much. I'm gifting this to the lovely @8LunaFortuna8 as she has been amazeballs in keeping me motivated. Go check out her awesome work "Oh Angel" and be on the look out for our collaborative effort on a whump/hurt-comfort fic (title TBD) in the near future!
> 
> And please, if you enjoyed this, leave me some love? Comments give me life!


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